Post by Kypriotha on Aug 25, 2012 0:06:47 GMT 10
Title: A Caged Bird
Summary: Sarai feels trapped in Rajmuat
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Mentions of character death
"A caged bird stands on the grave of dreams"
Maya Angelou, 'I know why the caged bird sings'
Sarai was tired.
Tired of pretending to look the other way as raka were abused all over the Isles. Tired of being treated like a petulant child whenever she expressed distaste with the way things were. Tired of the stupid court games the luarin nobles played.
But most of all, she was tired of the young men who constantly flocked around her and jabbered at her and preened before her. She was tired of how their avian-sized brains seemed incapable of processing anything beyond their own limited view of the world.
Any pleasure she had once felt at being the centre of their universe was gone now. Someone had commented soon after their return to Rajmuat that she’d seemed different; that the time on Tanair had changed her. From that day on, Sarai had thrown herself into the charade of her past self. It was easier to be brighter – lighter – flightier – than to face questions she couldn’t even begin to answer.
But Tanair had changed her. Had changed her views on the Isles (those poor raka, forced into banditry); on people (Bronau); on herself (I never would have thought, before, that I would be prepared to kill a man). And even though they had been actually unable to leave Tanair, she felt more trapped in Rajmuat. Like a bird that had been taken from its natural habitat and put in a gilded cage for the entertainment of others.
All of her dreams – her ideals of how the world could be – were gone.
Rubinyan hadn’t cared about his brother’s death. All he cared about was politics. All anyone cared about was politics. That was what they called it when they repressed the raka; when they took their freedom and took their lives.
And those silly little boys twittered about, pretending they knew what they were talking about. It made Sarai want to scream. Sometimes she wished they would go bother someone else, but she also didn’t want to let them out of her sight. At least when they were there with her, she could stop them running about like cuckoos and trying to think for themselves. At least they made her feel useful.
She would settle for useful whilst she waited to break free of her cage.
Summary: Sarai feels trapped in Rajmuat
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Mentions of character death
"A caged bird stands on the grave of dreams"
Maya Angelou, 'I know why the caged bird sings'
Sarai was tired.
Tired of pretending to look the other way as raka were abused all over the Isles. Tired of being treated like a petulant child whenever she expressed distaste with the way things were. Tired of the stupid court games the luarin nobles played.
But most of all, she was tired of the young men who constantly flocked around her and jabbered at her and preened before her. She was tired of how their avian-sized brains seemed incapable of processing anything beyond their own limited view of the world.
Any pleasure she had once felt at being the centre of their universe was gone now. Someone had commented soon after their return to Rajmuat that she’d seemed different; that the time on Tanair had changed her. From that day on, Sarai had thrown herself into the charade of her past self. It was easier to be brighter – lighter – flightier – than to face questions she couldn’t even begin to answer.
But Tanair had changed her. Had changed her views on the Isles (those poor raka, forced into banditry); on people (Bronau); on herself (I never would have thought, before, that I would be prepared to kill a man). And even though they had been actually unable to leave Tanair, she felt more trapped in Rajmuat. Like a bird that had been taken from its natural habitat and put in a gilded cage for the entertainment of others.
All of her dreams – her ideals of how the world could be – were gone.
Rubinyan hadn’t cared about his brother’s death. All he cared about was politics. All anyone cared about was politics. That was what they called it when they repressed the raka; when they took their freedom and took their lives.
And those silly little boys twittered about, pretending they knew what they were talking about. It made Sarai want to scream. Sometimes she wished they would go bother someone else, but she also didn’t want to let them out of her sight. At least when they were there with her, she could stop them running about like cuckoos and trying to think for themselves. At least they made her feel useful.
She would settle for useful whilst she waited to break free of her cage.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!